Who killed Meriadoc Brandybuck?
by Lotho's Cute Villainess Minion
Summary: A tragedy occurs in the Shire – someone has murdered Merry Brandybuck! Who was it? Okay, I promised no slash. But it snuck in. But it's only pretend, not real. Pretend slash! Chapter twelve up - Legolas is back. But how is that possible? And why?
1. The Tragedy

AN: Wow, my first ever serious Lord of the Rings fanfic. Be so proud of me! Flame's welcome, but don't bother unless you have a valid point you'd like to make.  
  
Summary: A tragedy occurs in the Shire - someone has murdered Merry Brandybuck! Who was it?  
  
Spoilers: Umm. all three, I think.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, sorry.  
  
  
  
The Shire was in an uproar, particularly the Brandybuck clan. Something had happened in their midst, and Hobbits were coming from all over the Shire to find out if the rumours flying around were true. What they were faced with as they crossed the river to see the crazy, boat-loving Hobbits on the other side was not only shocking, but also incredibly depressing.  
  
Multitudes of sad Brandybucks, clad in only black, greeted them and led them to the scene of the terrible crime. The sight made Samwise Gamgee cry out softly, and his wife Rosie sob. Peregrin Took, clad also in black, was kneeling over the pale, motionless figure of a Hobbit. He was crying openly, and through his sobs, only a few words could be interpreted. "Merry Brandybuck. The first Hobbit ever to be intentionally killed by another in the Shire. Why?"  
  
As Pippin moved slightly, Sam got a good look at the destruction. Merry's face had lost all it's colour. His clothes were coated in blood, from the three deep slashes across his chest and stomach. His arms were also covered with smaller slashes, as though they had been raised to protect him. A blood-coated short sword lay by the body, either having inflicted these deadly wounds, or used in self-defense.  
  
Sam dropped to his knees by Merry, and took the younger, sobbing Hobbit in his arms. "What happened to him, Pippin?" He asked softly. "Who. who did this to him?" No one else spoke. They were all awaiting the answer, wanting to know who had done this. After all, Pippin /was/ his cousin, closest friend and roommate. If anyone had any clue, it'd be him.  
  
Shaking uncontrollably, but calming down enough in Sam's arms to answer, Pippin slowly began to tell all he knew. "I. I don't know. I hadn't seen him since last night. We were at the party, doing pretty much the same thing as usual. Drinking, laughing, singing, dancing, generally being the life of the party. We were going to go home together, but then he decided to stay behind and talk to (flirt with) his girlfriend, Samia. He just never returned."  
  
Sam looked down at the ground as Pippin recounted the events, more tears coming to his eyes. He could have been comforting Pippin, he should have been comforting Pippin. But he was too affected himself to do any more than simply hug the younger Hobbit and have a bit of a cry. An older Hobbit approached them, placing one hand on Pippin's shoulder and another hand on Sam's shoulder. "You need some sleep." He whispered. "Go on. You don't need to see any more of this; it's too much for you."  
  
Slowly, Pippin and Sam got to their feet and trudged back to the Hobbit- hole Pippin used to share with Merry. It was true, they couldn't bear to look at the terrible mutilation any longer. "Goodbye, Merry." Pippin whispered, as he turned to take one last look at the mourners. "I may not be very clever, and I might not always do things right, but I can promise you I will find whoever did this to you and make sure they pay dearly for it."  
  
  
  
AN: Please forgive the shortness, the next few chapters will be a lot longer to make up for it. Review, please! 


	2. Was it Samia?

Disclaimer: I didn't own any more than I did before, sorry..  
  
  
  
The next morning, Sam and Pippin awoke, convinced they were going to find the murderer. First stop, the Hobbit-hole belonging to the last person to be seen with Merry - his girlfriend, Samia. Sam nervously knocked on the door. Talking to Samia always made him nervous, and he never had any clue why.  
  
She answered the door, her eyes red from crying. Guilty conscience, Pippin thought bitterly as she looked at the two of them. He had never really liked her much. "Samwise Gamgee, and Peregrin Took." She greeted them softly, gesturing for them to enter.  
  
"Where were you last night?" Pippin asked accusingly, glaring into her red eyes through his own. He was too fired up to notice that she seemed at least as upset as him, if not more so.  
  
Samia looked rather taken aback by his accusing tone, stumbling backwards and looking as though a fresh batch of tears was about to come flooding out. "I was at the party, Pippin." She whispered shyly. "You know that. I was talking to you, and. and." She sniffled, turning away. "And Merry." She really was very upset by his murder, more upset than anyone Pippin knew, bar only himself and Merry's immediate family. Oh, and maybe Sam as well.  
  
~~Flashback~~  
  
"I don't understand what you see in her." Pippin told his cousin bluntly as they walked together through Farmer Maggots' field.  
  
Merry shrugged as he pulled a carrot out of the ground in passing and began to munch on it. "I didn't understand what you saw in thingamy, but did I point it out to you?"  
  
Pippin scowled. "You shut up about her, okay? And yes you did point it out to me. Several times."  
  
"Well, this is different. You and whatever-her-name-was -"  
  
"Kata."  
  
"Right, well, you and Kata wasn't a really big thing. So you had a huge crush on her, why I will never understand, and she was leading you on. There wasn't much in that relationship." Merry turned to look at Pippin, sincerity reflecting in his eyes. "But, Pip, this is different. I don't really /know/, but I'm absolutely positive that I love her. It's not some silly crush. I love Samia."  
  
Pippin blinked a few times, staring at Merry. "Love?" He repeated. "Wow, Merry. This /isn't/ just a crush. I can see it in your eyes." He broke into a wide grin, tossing his arm around Merry's shoulders. "My cousin's in looooooove!"  
  
~~End Flashback~~  
  
"You miss Mister Merry a lot, don't you?" Sam spoke quietly suddenly. Pippin was surprised; he had quite forgotten Sam was still right beside him. This sudden memory had stirred up all the emotion in him again. Tears came to his eyes once more. He fumbled around for something to wipe his eyes, but he found nothing. He brushed the tears away with the back of his hand, trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. It was no good crying about it; no amount of tears was going to bring his cousin back. Neither was catching the murderer, but at least it would make him feel better, knowing the crime had not passed unpunished.  
  
"You and Merry were always the life of the party, Pippin." Samia began to explain, wiping her eyes also. "Not the type of people anyone could ignore. Everyone liked him. You two were always singing and dancing and having fun. I can't imagine why anyone would ever want to hurt him.  
  
Sam offered her a half-smile, the closest anyone in the room had come to being happy since the previous day. "You really loved Merry, didn't you." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. An observation.  
  
She nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes again. Pippin felt for her. He knew what she was going through. He was going through exactly the same thing. Okay, maybe not /exactly/ the same. She had lost her true love; he had lost his best friend. And all this in one cruel act. "I know." He replied gently. "And he loved you too, a lot. More than I've ever known Merry to love anyone"  
  
Samia looked at him in remote surprise. "No, Pippin. He could not have loved me more than anyone else in the world. Not at least while you were still his best friend. He never told me how much you meant to him, but I could tell. Just by looking into his eyes I could tell that if anything ever happened to you, he'd be a nothing. If suddenly there was no more Pippin, what would the point be of there being a Merry?"  
  
Pippin shook his head. "You're wrong, Samia." He told her. "Very, very wrong. Without Pippin, there can still be a Merry. Without Merry. well, I'm still trying to figure that one out." The conversation was getting soft, and sappy. Not only that, but more than likely, she was trying to change the subject. Pippin folded his arms, and glared at her, hardening his tone. "What happened, exactly, Samia?"  
  
She paused, trying to remember exactly. Each word came with a shaky breath as though she was holding back more tears. There surely weren't that many tears in the world. "Soon after you left, the elf-maiden, Tara, appeared."  
  
One of the only elves who hadn't gone over the sea was Tara, an attractive female who had chosen to stay with the Hobbits. Quite a few people saw this as suspicious, but she insisted that she loved the Shire and enjoyed the company of the 'little people'. Enjoying their company was surely not the right phrase, and really, neither was 'elf-maiden'. Few people knew she actually had not chosen to stay behind, but had been, in a manner of speaking, exiled for her promiscuous nature.  
  
"Tara was pretty much blatantly seducing Merry. I left after that, and I never saw him again." She burst into tears, and Pippin stepped back awkwardly, wishing he had a handkerchief or something to offer her. "When I get my hands on her, I'll kill her! Poor Merry, I know she did it!"  
  
Pippin and Sam were beginning to feel a bit awkward, and neither of them had had much experience with their cousins' wailing girlfriends, and so left. "I guess it wasn't her, after all." Pippin admitted, as they made their way towards Tara's normal hangout. "But I'll bet nearly anything that Tara had something to do with it." 


	3. The interrogation of Tara

Disclaimer: Don't own it.  
  
  
  
As usual, Tara was at her usual hangout. For once, there were no guys surrounding her. She noticed the two approaching Hobbits and slowly sidled towards them - or rather, sidled towards the cute, single Pippin.  
  
That is, the cute single Pippin who did not particularly care for her.  
  
~~Flashback~~  
  
Pippin shrugged, rolling over in his bed to face his cousin. "I suppose I just don't get it."  
  
"Don't get what?" Merry yawned, tired after a long day. Pippin on the other hand didn't seem tired in it's remotest.  
  
"Don't get what most guys see in Tara. Oh, wow, she's an elf. I suppose that's the only thing that's good about her. Everything /else/ is against her."  
  
Merry turned to face Pippin. Goody, the start of another long argument. And at midnight, too. "I actually feel rather sorry for her, Pip."  
  
Pippin sat up, staring at his older cousin. "Why? There's nothing to feel sorry for, Merry. I hope you aren't falling for her too. Take a look at her for a moment - she clearly has no self-respect, pursuing that kind of career."  
  
Merry shrugged. "Exactly. And I just wonder what happened to her, to make her hate herself so much. Now shut up and go to sleep, Pippin." . "And I am certainly /not/ falling for Tara, thank you very much."  
  
~~End Flashback~~  
  
Pippin was so caught up in his memories of Merry that he barely noticed the elf standing over him, or the puddle of drool collecting underneath Sam. He didn't wake up to the real world until he heard Tara's voice, about two feet above his head. "Hiiii."  
  
He looked up at her for only a moment, and a fresh lot of tears began. Both Tara and Sam were quite taken aback, as this time there appeared to be no trigger. Sam shrugged at Tara, then turned and tried to awkwardly comfort Pippin. "Pip, it's okay. It's okay." Things weren't okay, though. But that's the line of comfort you use when you don't really know what's wrong, and you know you can't really help. And that pretty much fit the description of how Sam felt.  
  
"No, it's not okay." Pippin sobbed, looking up at Tara. "Merry was right, that's all. He was right, and I knew it all along. But that's just another thing that I knew and was going to tell him eventually, but never got around to. And now I'll never get a chance to tell him because he's. he's. he's dead, Sam."  
  
Tara looked rather stunned, but still seemed to have Pippin labelled as a potential customer, or perhaps it was just her natural way of doing things. Either way, she bent down and wiped a tear from his cheek, somehow managing to turn such a simple gesture into a seductive hint. "Honey, these things happen." She explained softly. "And they happen a lot. There's nothing you can do about it, except get on with your life. Come on, do you think Merry would want you to be crying over him every few minutes, or do you think he'd want you to have some fun?" She winked.  
  
Almost immediately, Pippin stopped crying. It wasn't because he knew Merry would want him to have fun, it was that Tara didn't seem to care about poor Merry. He looked up at her, his eyes like icy daggers. "I don't think that Merry would have wanted me to cry over him, nor do I believe that he wished for me to get over his death by sleeping with the local prostitute." His tone of voice was every bit as icy as his eyes. "Especially one that does not seem to realise that this is not some stupid game. Last night, my cousin, my best friend was murdered. That is not the type of thing you can get over within a day, Tara. Furthermore, being partially responsible for this is not the type of thing you can get over in a day."  
  
Sam was absolutely amazed at the sudden change in Pippin, and suddenly felt the urge to applaud. Certainly Tara was attractive, and had him as taken in as pretty much any other, after that show of distinct lacking care for the late Merry, he was convinced he would never be able to look at her in the same way again. Instead of applauding, he simply asked quietly, "Pippin, what do you mean you're partially responsible?"  
  
Pippin glanced at Sam, his eyes again filling with tears. This time, however, they were not tears of sadness - they were tears of frustration. "Don't you see? I am partially responsible. If I had never left him alone with Samia at the party, this never would have happened. It's my fault. Why can't you see that?" He glanced up at the sky. "O Meriadoc, I am so very, very sorry! I take the full blame! Could you ever forgive me?"  
  
I'm quite sure, as the author of this tale, you do not need me to explain that this caused Tara and Sam to wonder about his sanity, Tara more so than Sam. In fact, this wonder of his sanity almost deterred her from any wish to seduce him. Almost, but not quite. Unfortunately, she was the type to enjoy a good challenge.  
  
She ruffled his hair with one long, slender hand, and gradually ran it down his cheek and jaw, then gently and slowly traced his lips. "But Pippin," she used his name for the first time, "I'm sure you agree, there would have been nothing you could have done about it, even if you hadn't have left him. Whoever killed him would have probably just brushed you aside, or killed you as well." She flung the hand to one side at the words 'brushed you aside'.  
  
Pippin glared at her a second time. If his gaze had been like daggers of ice the first time, then there are no words to describe the look in his eyes the second time. "Tara, where were you last night?" He asked her suspiciously, steering back to the original point of the little visit that he was now mostly regretting. But then, if his suspicions were true, the little visit could pay off greatly.  
  
She would have looked down on him, but that is hardly the appropriate term. She did look down, but 'twas not in a condescending manner. Doing this, she took an automatic step backwards. "I went to the party to earn a bit of spare change. I met up with Merry. He was quite a catch, you know, for a Hobbit." She winked again, lapsing into her regular behaviour. "Not unlike yourself." In spite of himself, Pippin blushed. "Anyway, we were talking for a while, and although he seemed to enjoy talking, he ignored every move I made on him. Again, not unlike yourself. He was a bit challenging, but in the end I talked him into at very least taking a stroll with me. Finally, he agreed. And so we went walking. I kept trying to talk him into /something/, but every time I tried something, he continued ignoring me. It got so frustrating I."  
  
Pippin continued glaring at her, unable to take any more of it. "You killed him, didn't you? You were so frustrated by his ignorance, that you killed him!"  
  
Tara shook her head. "No - no, Pippin! I could never do that! I could never kill someone like Merry! I left! That's all I did, I'll swear it over his grave if I must. I left him, and I'm as much to blame for his death as you are! I left him as well! I walked off on him!" For the first time since she had been exiled by the elves, Tara broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. "I should've known something bad was going to happen.. I never should have done it. I'm still an elf, no matter what else I do, and I still have instincts. And when my instincts told me not to walk off, I should have trusted them."  
  
"Can you look me in the eye, Tara, and tell me that you did not in any way harm Merry?" Pippin asked her quietly, the coldness in his tone and his eyes subsiding.  
  
She looked Pippin in the eye, and repeated it. "Pippin, I swear it, I did not in any way, shape or form harm Merry." The sincerity in her voice was echoed in her eyes. She could not have possibly had anything to do with it.  
  
Pippin turned to leave, convinced that she was innocent, and truly realising for the first time that Merry was right. She deserved pity, and not spite. True friendship, and not just. well, whatever it was that she got. "Tara, I would not be able to lead the life you lead, and I don't know anyone who could. That could be because if we had to resort to that or die, we would die. It could be because we don't hate ourselves as much as you seem to. I suppose I can't make up my mind whether I admire you, or feel sorry for you. Either way, you should sleep easily tonight, knowing there is one Hobbit who doesn't only feel something towards you because of the way you look and act."  
  
He walked away from her, beckoning for Sam to follow him. Tara was unsure what he meant by that, but went back to her original seat to await the crowds that often appeared in the late hours of the evening. Pippin looked up at Sam. "Oh, Sam, whatever can I do? There are two, possibly three people to partially blame his death on, yet none of us three actually committed the crime. It seems that all the people he was in the company of that evening left him alone, and I suppose some spirit appeared out of nowhere to commit the crime. Can you see any real answer to the riddle?"  
  
"No." Sam replied, shrugging helplessly. "I'm afraid I really can't see any answers at all. It doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever."  
  
"I'm afraid that makes two of us, Sam." 


	4. Of Princes, Kings and starving Hobbits

Disclaimer: Don't own it.  
  
AN: I have nearly no one to write this author's note to, but I do wish to thank my sole reviewer, yukinasan. I luv ya! Also, I made a mistake in earlier chapters that I can't be bothered to properly rectify. Tara is actually interrogated the day after Samia. Sorry.  
  
And another thing *snatches Pippin away* MY PIPPIN!!  
  
*coughs* Actually, about the screen name thing, you just log in, go to Settings and change your username. Or just reregister.  
  
  
  
A long, slender hand reached out to take the roll of fine parchment, tied with a thin, black ribbon. The flaxen-haired elf belonging to the slim hand knew the letter would contain bad tidings, but precisely what they were he did not know. The Prince of Mirkwood (really, the Prince of nothing-in- particular, now that all but a small handful of elves had left) was hesitant in opening the letter, but he knew that he must, for the contents of the letter were of great importance.  
  
Dear Legolas, (the letter began)  
  
It has been a long time since we last spoke, and I regret not contacting you sooner. When I discovered that you had stayed behind as opposed to crossing The Sea, I should have contacted you immediately. If that had been the case, my first letter to you would not have held such grave tidings. It is regarding the Hobbits.  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck, or 'Merry', the second youngest Hobbit, was recently murdered in the Shire. It is still unknown whom committed this horrendous crime, and why. As you may have guessed, Peregrin Took, the young one, 'Pippin', is doing everything he can to find the murderer.  
  
I know that it was many years since the Fellowship of the Ring were together on the Quest, but I received word from the Shire requesting the presence of the remaining six (Frodo went over The Sea, as I am sure you have been informed) at Merry's funeral. If you would be so kind as to attend, it would not only be much appreciated by Pippin, but it would provide us with a chance to catch up.  
  
I hope you are well,  
  
King Aragorn.  
  
Legolas' perfect hand shook ever so slightly as he read and reread the letter. Surely it couldn't be possible. That young Hobbit could not possibly have been murdered, after all that he had been through. The poor Hobbit had been kidnapped by Orcs, had helped in the defeat of Isengard, and killed a Nazgul. He should have been able to defeat a Hobbit attacker. unless the murderer was not actually a Hobbit.  
  
The thought of this, not to mention the deed itself, sent a shiver up Legolas' spine. The whole thing was rather sinister. Eerily so. Certainly, the fair elf would visit the Shire and pay respects to his deceased once fellow Fellowship member. Once there, perhaps he could even assist in the search for the assassin.  
  
He left his room, and turned to a reasonably young, female (human) servant in the long corridor. "Would you prepare my things, as soon as possible?" He asked, perhaps a little less kindly than was possible. "I must go on a journey. To a place called the Shire. I have been requested to go there by King Aragorn of Gondor himself."  
  
The elf then continued up the lengthy corridor without another word to the girl. She looked at him in amazement, before going into his room to. well, basically do as she was told.  
  
At this moment, the murderer was also hurrying up a hallway, in a palace. He too, was on his way to the Shire. For the same purpose or not was unsure.  
  
*  
  
"I don't know what I am going to do, Sam!" Pippin cried as he turned to his Hobbit friend. "I really don't. I so very much wanted to find the murderer, and somehow get revenge on poor Merry's behalf - without actually killing anyone, of course. But no matter what I do, no matter which lead I follow, it all ends up in some dead end. Why can't I do this?"  
  
The two were seated outside Sam and Rosie's Hobbit-hole, Pippin on the verge of tears for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Surely there weren't that many tears in the world, but somehow Pippin managed it. More was wrong with Pippin than just the tears. Merry's death had affected Pippin in a way Sam could not comprehend - a deeper effect than Frodo's leaving had on Sam, anyway. The evening was dragging on, and soon it would be too dark outside to see, but Pippin had not eaten all that day, or the day before. In fact, he had not eaten since breakfast on the day that Merry had been discovered, which is a long time for anyone, especially a Hobbit. Pippin had not slept the past two nights, either. He looked rather like he was about to collapse, running on his vengeance only.  
  
Sam didn't say anything for a moment, unable to do anything except awkwardly pat Pippin's shoulder. "Perhaps," he began thoughtfully, "perhaps we've been going about it completely the wrong way."  
  
The younger Hobbit looked up at Sam. "How do you mean?" He asked.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure. I just have this feeling that we're going about this the wrong way." Sam paused briefly, thinking about this for a second. "After all, Merry was.. Well, he was a strong Hobbit. No one in the Shire could best him, except maybe you. And even then, only on your good day. No one here could have done that to him unless he either trusted them so fully that he was unable to respond out of shock - and only you he trusted that much."  
  
Pippin looked up at Sam, eyes flashing murderously (bad choice of words.). "Are you saying I had something to do with his death?" He asked, moving away from Sam. "First you say I'm the only one in the Shire strong enough, now I'm the only one in the Shire he trusted enough not to respond immediately?"  
  
"Not at all, Master Pippin!" Sam raised his hands, as though afraid that Pippin would strike. "That's not what I meant at all, not in the slightest. What I meant was, it could not have been anyone in the Shire!"  
  
Indeed, Pippin had raised his hand to strike at Sam, but lowered it slowly. "What do you mean, Sam? Merry knew so few people outside the Shire, and he was well liked among all of them. Who could have held such a grudge against him?"  
  
Sam shook his head. "That is where my theory goes wrong. There is simply no motive." Both of the Hobbits sat in silence for a while. Finally, Sam spoke again. "Well, who exactly did he know who is still alive and hasn't crossed the sea?"  
  
Pippin shrugged slightly, tapping the names off on his fingers. "Prince Legolas, King Aragorn, Queen Arwen, Lady Eowyn, Lord Faramir, Gandalf the White. a lot of titled people, really. Oh, and Gimli." He paused. "Was there anyone else?"  
  
"I don't know. I missed most of it." Sam replied, thinking hard. "You'll have to come up with your own opinions about Lady Eowyn and Lord Faramir. But as for the ones I know. King Aragorn is far too noble to commit a deed such as this! As for Prince Legolas and Gimli, the Prince uses a bow and Gimli uses an axe. And Mister Gandalf, sir, he could not have done it either. Too noble, and he doesn't use a sword. The murderer used a sword."  
  
Pippin sighed, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. "I don't know either. I feel so tired that I could fall asleep if there were thousands of people blowing horns in my ears and Middle-Earth was breaking apart. But I feel so troubled that I couldn't sleep if someone beat me around the head thousands of times with a stick to knock me unconscious, and played me lullabies all night."  
  
"Sounds like your need to sleep overpowers your troubles."  
  
"But it doesn't, somehow!" Pippin cried, sitting up again and looking at Sam. "I want to sleep, I need to sleep. But I can't. It's the same with eating. I'm so hungry I could EAT the thousands of people, and at the same time, food just doesn't appeal to me. And that would be the first time in my life."  
  
Sam gently wrapped his arms around the shaking, young Hobbit. It seemed at once as though Little Pippin was an old Hobbit, carrying the weight of Middle-Earth on his shoulders. But it was unlike that, for Sam's master Frodo had once held the fate of the universe in the palm of his hand and had not reacted in such a way. Or he had, but at least he had reason to. All Pippin was carrying was the knowledge that someone had murdered his charismatic, friendly, well-liked cousin and best friend, and his undying vengeance. But nonetheless, perhaps Pippin was weaker than Frodo or perhaps events affected him differently, but Pippin was seeming less and less like Little Pippin as the days passed.  
  
Rosie appeared at the door and looked down at the two Hobbits. "Sam," she whispered, "Pippin can't keep going on like this. He has to eat something, and he has to get some sleep. He simply won't be able to go on relying only on his undying sense of revenge on poor Merry's behalf."  
  
Sam shook his head, trying to comfort Pippin and talk softly with Rosie at the same time. "He won't. He says he is too troubled to sleep, and food doesn't appeal to him. Yes," he beat Rosie to it, "Pippin 'Bottomless Pit' Took doesn't want food."  
  
"Sam, this isn't a matter of what he feels like. He NEEDS to eat, and he NEEDS to sleep. At very least humour me and try to get him to eat something?"  
  
Sam sighed, pulling Pippin to his feet. He didn't respond. Looks of worry passed over both Sam and Rosie's faces. Pippin had just finished saying that he couldn't sleep, so it was highly unlikely that he was sleeping. Sam gently lowered the still, silent Hobbit to the ground and studied him for a moment. "He passed out from hunger and lack of sleep." 


	5. The Reunion and the Reason Legolas Staye...

Disclaimer: Nothing. I own nothing.  
  
AN: I've looked. You can't buy Hobbits on Ebay. It's very depressing. (  
  
  
  
Pippin did not awaken until late the next day. Sam sat by his side as the hours passed, and sat by his side, caring for him as though he were his lost master Frodo. Sam and Rosie had come to the conclusion that Pippin was conscious, and they agreed that to awaken him would be cruel. He smiled at the sleeping Hobbit, and brushed a brown curl from his face. "He reminds me so much of Frodo," Sam whispered to himself, "and in a way, he also reminds me of myself. I loved Frodo, and he loved Merry. And now we have both lost those people special to us. But it is different. I have Rosie, and Elanor, and all my other children. With my family, I could never be alone. But Pippin. Pippin had no one except Merry. Sure, he had lots of friends, but no one close." (AN: I want you people to reread that paragraph, notice the part where Sam said he loved Frodo, and get our mind out of the slashy gutters. It is possible to love in a non-romantic way, and that is the way I see Sam as loving Frodo. *kicks 'Contemplation' under her bed* Ignore that.)  
  
Pippin awakened to hear these softly whispered words, and looked up at Sam. "Sam, who am I trying to kid? You're right. Without Merry I'm just a nothing. A nothing."  
  
Sam shook his head quickly, laying his hand on the younger one's shoulder. "No, Pippin, that's not true. You're a lot more than that. You and Merry were individuals, not just a Pippin-and-Merry or a Merry-and-Pippin."  
  
Tears came to Pippin's eyes. "No. No, we weren't. We were one and the same. Hello there, Merry-and-Pippin. How are you this fine day, Merry-and-Pippin? Oh tell me a story, sing me a song, do a dance for us, Merry-and-Pippin. Will you marry me, Merry-and-Pippin?"  
  
Sam tried not to laugh at his friend's exaggeration. "It's not quite that bad.."  
  
"Yes it is." Pippin replied, a tear slowly trickling down his cheek. "The last one actually happened once. I felt so. I don't know. Me and Merry were telling a story, a very funny story, and this little Hobbit-lass, no older than twelve looked up at us and said, 'Merry, Pippin, will you marry me?'. We asked her jokingly if she really wanted both of us, or couldn't decide which one was cuter and she said, 'Well, I think Merry is cuter, but if you have Merry, you have to have Pippin. You two are a set.'"  
  
Sam was silent for a moment. He had never known just how much people grouped Merry and Pippin together. "Come on." He said finally, changing the subject. "You are going to eat, whether you like it or not."  
  
*  
  
At that moment, two horses were being ridden into the Shire from two opposite directions, and a Dwarf was walking in from a third direction. The two horses and the Dwarf met up, all three happy to see each other, but with very solemn expressions. The first was a flaxen-haired elf, Prince of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas. The second, the King of Gondor - King Aragorn. And the third, was Gimli, son of Gloin, who has no real title. They greeted each other with the same solemness that was written on each of their faces.  
  
"Aragorn. Gimli."  
  
"Legolas. Aragorn."  
  
"Legolas. Gimli."  
  
Aragorn heavily dismounted his horse. Legolas leapt to the ground neatly and gracefully. Gimli simply stood there. They looked at each other for a moment, wondering what to do next. Legolas made the first move of the three, throwing his arms around Aragorn in a rather unroyal manner. Aragorn was rather taken aback at first, and was about to inquire about the informal greeting by his comrade, when he realised that it was not only happiness to see his old friend that compelled the elf to do this, but also sadness at the loss of another friend. "Oh, Aragorn." Legolas whispered, holding back tears. "What's wrong with me? It's not as terrible as all this, so why is it that I'm so. upset?"  
  
Aragorn was unsure what to do, what to say, how to act. He hadn't really had much experience with Elf Princes like Legolas clinging to him in tears. In fact, he'd never really had anyone cling to him in tears before. No one except a small child once, and that was different. The child was only very young and had skinned her knee. Legolas was about three thousand years old, so not young, was suffering from emotional pain, and not physical. Oh, and was male. For some reason, an adult male clinging to him was slightly different from a young female. "Calm.down, Legolas?" He soothed awkwardly, patting the Elf on the back. "It's.alright?"  
  
"But it's not." Legolas whispered, pulling away from Aragorn, much to the King's relief. "It's too late for poor Merry. And Pippin. Poor, poor Pippin." Legolas wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe, and looked up at the sky, blinking a few times, and trying to compose himself. It was difficult, considering the empathy he felt for poor Pippin and the inner turmoil that the Hobbit was surely suffering.  
  
Pippin and Sam walked over to the Elf, the Man and the Dwarf at that moment. "Your Highness, Your Majesty.." Pippin greeted them softly as he bowed to Legolas and Aragorn. "And Gimli."  
  
Sam bowed to the three guests, but said nothing. Aragorn motioned for them to rise. "Do not be so formal." He told them. "For when I am here, I do not come as the King Aragorn of Gondor. I come as Strider, the Ranger who befriended four Hobbits as they went on the most dangerous quest ever to be successfully completed."  
  
"And I," Legolas continued, "Come as not Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, but as simply Legolas. Legolas the Elf who accompanied the same four Hobbits on the same quest."  
  
Sam looked up at the two royals, and offered a half-smile. "Greetings, Aragorn and Legolas, and welcome to our humble village. I am very sorry that you had to come in such a grim time for us. Come, you came at just the right time. Tomorrow is the funeral. Let us show you where you will be staying. And where you can keep your horses."  
  
Sam led the trio to the stables and the inn, which had had a few rooms specially built for Big People. Pippin trailed along behind, very slowly and weakly. Legolas moved slowly to stay in step with the Hobbit. "I know what you are going through, young one." He told Pippin quietly.  
  
"Do you?" Pippin asked sadly. "I thought Elves were immortal."  
  
"Elves are immortal. But I was the only one of my family to stay behind as opposed to going over the Sea. My entire family left me. Some of them understood that I loved this place. Others didn't, and spoke foul of me. Not the best way to leave a family member, with cruel whispers about him." He paused. "Some Elves frown upon any sort of relationships with Men and Dwarves. Nearly all Elves frown upon homosexuality. So when I refused to go with them to the Havens, you can guess what they all immediately thought."  
  
Pippin looked at Legolas wide-eyed. "Your own family?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "My own family were saying those sort of things about me. As soon as they got the idea into their heads, even if I had changed my mind, I would have been told to stay here anyway. I have a few family members who are very discriminative, who would leave their own brother behind if they suspected he might have homosexual tendencies."  
  
Pippin paused, shifting slightly. "Umm. do. I mean. are.."  
  
Legolas laughed gently. "You mean, do I have homosexual tendencies?"  
  
Pippin blushed a deep shade of red, looking at the ground. "Yes."  
  
The Elf shook his head. "No. I don't. The real reason I stayed behind was because I have a certain affinity with this place. I love it, and I would never leave it." 


	6. Aragorn's room? Midnight? What's going o...

AN: That last chapter probably left us with a few unanswered questions. Isn't this fic supposed to be about the search for Merry's killer? Who killed Merry, already? But I think the most important question at this stage is did Pippin's talk with Legolas at the end of the fifth chapter have any relevance to the plot, or was it a 'take up space' chapter?  
  
Muahaha. I know all the answers. The fic IS about the search for Merry's killer. I'm getting there. Slowly. Secondly, what would be the fun in this story if I told you that now? And thirdly, yes it does have relevance to the plot. In a very strange, twisted way.  
  
  
  
That night, Sam and Pippin stayed at the Inn with their guests. Pippin couldn't sleep, and Sam was too tired to try and make him sleep, so he paced the hallway. At somewhere near midnight, a noise caught his attention, and he stopped, listening carefully. He stood perfectly still for several minutes, and he heard a series of sounds coming from Aragorn's room. It sounded rather like voices. He inched closer to the door, listening carefully. He was able to identify the two voices - Aragorn and Legolas - but could not hear exactly what they were saying. At first he was suspicious. What was Legolas doing in Aragorn's room at midnight? He recalled the conversation he'd had with Legolas earlier that day. Had he lied? Was he really. well. like /that/ with Aragorn? No, of course not. He drove the thought from his mind immediately. If anyone had heard those thoughts, he would be severely reprimanded for them. It was after all, a King and a Prince he was thinking about.  
  
He moved closer still to the door, and tried to figure out a few of the words. No luck. They were speaking in some form of Elvish. He still waited, and listened, though he didn't know why. He heard them occasionally make a few comments in the Common Tongue, but nothing particularly interesting. Just talking about politics and various other boring things. Something kept Pippin listening, however. Something told him that if he kept listening, he'd hear something that he needed to know. He began to tire, but came back to his senses as they said something not about politics and stuff in the Common Tongue.  
  
"Well, good night, Aragorn." It was Legolas. "I'm assuming you'll want to be sleeping at some point soon. Poor Merry's funeral tomorrow.."  
  
Pippin tensed. He wasn't sure what they'd do to him if they discovered him spying on them. He prepared himself for some explaining as the door handle began to twist.  
  
"Wait, Legolas."  
  
The Hobbit breathed a sigh of relief as Legolas released the handle and (he assumed) turned to look at Aragorn. "Yes, Aragorn?"  
  
There was an awkward pause. "Legolas.. There's something I have to confess."  
  
Immediately, Pippin knew he shouldn't be listening. He should go away and not listen to a single word of what was said. If Aragorn had something to confess to Legolas. in his room. at midnight. it was none of Pippin's business to listen at the door. But that little part of his brain that stopped him from leaving earlier made him keep listening. He had to know what they were talking about.  
  
"What is it, Aragorn?" Legolas asked softly, and Pippin could only assume the elf had left the door and had gone to talk to the King.  
  
The Hobbit was rather surprised at what he heard next. It was undoubtedly Aragorn's voice, but. it couldn't possibly be. For the owner of the voice was surely holding back tears, and Pippin couldn't imagine the King of Gondor crying. Even if it was in the privacy of his own room, in the company of a good friend.  
  
Okay, so the fact that Aragorn and Legolas were alone together in Aragorn's room at midnight, especially following the conversation Legolas and Pippin had had was a little bit on the. unnerving side. He knew he really shouldn't think these things, but he couldn't help it.  
  
"Legolas, it was terrible. I didn't mean to do it, really. It just. sort of, happened. I had no intention, not in the slightest."  
  
"What, Aragorn? What didn't you intend to do that was so terrible?" The elf's calming voice was lowered to the point that Pippin had to strain his ears to hear it. He wasn't entirely sure that's what he heard, but it sounded close and made sense.  
  
No response came for a while. Then Pippin heard Aragorn's voice again, and he was even more convinced that the King was crying. "Poor Merry. he didn't deserve such a fate. Especially not at my hands. I didn't mean to do it. it was an accident. I was walking through the Shire, and he was returning to his home. I bumped into him, and drew my sword, because I didn't know who it was. He had a sword with him, too. He didn't recognise me, but knew I was not a Hobbit, and so immediately tried to attack me. He was tired, and possibly drunk as well, but still quite a force to be reckoned with. I stabbed at him with my sword in self-defence. I hadn't noticed who it was. I, the better sword-fighter, wounded him badly, several times - but I didn't mean to. That's when we recognised each other. He was in such pain from all his wounds that he begged me to kill him, to finish him off. So I did."  
  
Pippin was in shock. Aragorn had killed Merry? Kind King Aragorn of Gondor had murdered his cousin and best friend, Meriadoc Brandybuck? Sudden anger welled up inside Pippin. He wanted to destroy Aragorn, to make sure he suffered for what he did. On the other hand, Aragorn sounded sorry. But certain aspects of Aragorn's story sounded fishy. Why was he walking through the Shire? Why did he draw his sword on the Hobbit? Why did he badly wound the Hobbit, if he was only attacking in self-defence? Pippin was feeling a surge of mixed emotions. He wanted to tear Aragorn limb from limb, but he had no desire to sink to that level, to kill someone for whatever reason.  
  
Legolas sounded every bit as shocked as Pippin, but without the desires to tear Aragorn limb from limb for killing his best friend. His voice did turn noticeably colder, however. "Aragorn, how could you?"  
  
"Legolas, I didn't mean to. You must believe me."  
  
"How could you do that to a poor, defenceless Hobbit?"  
  
"It was an accident."  
  
There was a silence. Finally, Legolas spoke. "I can tell when people are lying, Aragorn, and you are being truthful. It was a terrible deed you have done, however, and you are guilty of manslaughter, you know that. Or perhaps that should be hobbitslaughter"  
  
"I do know that. But Legolas, that is why no one must know except for you. Pippin would try to kill me if he found out."  
  
There was another silence. Finally, Legolas agreed. "I will tell no one. Do not worry. I give you my word as an elf, I will not tell a soul." Pippin was almost afraid to breathe. He shifted position slowly, and peeked through the crack in the door. He couldn't see a thing.  
  
This slight movement appeared to have caught Legolas' sharp hearing. "Aragorn - someone is at the door."  
  
The door opened, and revealed Pippin standing outside. Aragorn practically turned white. "Pippin - I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill anyone - especially not Merry. I would never intentionally hurt Merry. Forgive me."  
  
Pippin's gaze was cold, as it fixed upon Aragorn, and only Legolas' gentle hand upon his shoulder stopped him from launching himself forward and seriously hurting Aragorn for what he did. "Why should I forgive you?" He asked icily. "My cousin, my best friend in the world is dead. And you killed him. Give me one good reason why I should forgive you."  
  
Aragorn said nothing for a while. Finally, he replied. "You shouldn't. There is absolutely no reason you should forgive me. I have committed the most terrible crime against you I could. You have no reason to even considering forgiving me - except that I am truly sorry, and meant no harm against you, or your cousin." He lowered his gaze. "That is not even any reason. You should kill me. I deserve to die."  
  
Pippin stopped, taking a step back. Legolas released his shoulder. "You deserve to die. But you shall live. For I could never kill anyone - not even you, who took away my most prized possession," he choked as he said the next few words, "my best friend, Merry. And I shall tell no one of your crime."  
  
The three stood in silence, looking at each other for a moment. Finally, Legolas broke the silence. "You had best be going off to bed, Master Took. Tomorrow is a big day."  
  
"Aren't you going back to your room?" Pippin asked, his original suspicion returning. Had there been some reason for Legolas' presence in Aragorn's room apart from the boring political discussion.. And then Aragorn's confession.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I will get caught if I go back to bed now. You probably will, as well, but you have a legitimate reason to be awake. Kind of. Not to mention, people will start to wonder if we are both seen exiting Aragorn's room at such a strange hour. People are already suspicious of our presence, and suspect we had something to do with the murder. No, if you, who has reason to be unable to sleep, is seen awake, alone at this time, people will take pity on you. If I was seen, people would wonder." He took a seat on the end of Aragorn's bed. "Besides, by this time, my absence from my room will have already been noted." Pippin remembered the Innkeeper's duty to check on each room and it's occupants at regular intervals, and briefly wondered why Legolas had not been caught in Aragorn's room sooner. As though reading his thoughts, Legolas laughed gently. "Aragorn requested that no one duck in and 'check on him' as he slept, as he required privacy. The point is, that people will have already noted that I'm not in my room, so you get the idea. If I am found here tomorrow morning, the only thing people will suspect is that the rumours about me are true. Certainly not that we've been killing people. Whereas if I am seen leaving, people will think that we've been discussing things, and get suspicious."  
  
"I don't really see your logic." Pippin admitted. "I mean, why would you want people to think that. well. you know. the rumours are true? Not to mention, if you're found here in the morning, people will still think you've been conspiring."  
  
"Because, Pippin, having people think that sort of thing is much preferable to having them think that you're a murderer." The elf explained gently. "And let me ask you a question - if you were a little bit suspicious of two people conspiring against you, but not very, and you saw one of them leave the other's room late at night, what would you think?"  
  
"That they'd been conspiring."  
  
"And what would you think if, instead of seeing one leave the other's room, the next morning you found that one of them had spent the whole night in the other's room, especially after you'd heard a rumour that at least one was."  
  
"I'd think they'd been up to something - but not a conspiracy kind of something."  
  
"And thirdly, when you first realised I was in here, what did you think, knowing that I was certainly not conspiring, but with the conversation that we had today fresh in your mind?  
  
"I thought.."  
  
Legolas and Aragorn both looked at the Hobbit.  
  
"Okay, okay." Pippin finally agreed. "Yes, I see your point. But you'd rather people 'know' that you'd been.. Yeah, than just suspect that you'd been conspiring against them?"  
  
Aragorn nodded, lying down on his bed. "Pretty much, yes. Because it's a lot safer to have people believe I'm cheating on my wife with some male elf than to have them believe that I'm a murderer." He paused. "For starters, I think I'm the only King who doesn't cheat on his wife."  
  
Legolas laughed gently, then shooed the still very confused Hobbit out of the room. "He's a good Hobbit. He means well. But he's not too bright."  
  
"Well, to be perfectly honest, I didn't understand half of what you were saying either. But at least I caught on a little bit quicker than he did." Aragorn responded tiredly.  
  
"You have an excuse." The elf told him. "You're stressing about the murder."  
  
"So was he."  
  
"You're tired."  
  
"So was he."  
  
"..Okay, maybe you don't have an excuse. But you did catch on quicker. That's one thing I can say for you."  
  
Aragorn threw a random item - a pillow, it turned out to be - at Legolas. "Thank you for your vote of confidence, good Prince."  
  
The pillow was thrown back at Aragorn, hitting him neatly in the head as the elf tsked audibly. "This is not the time for childish games, my King." He told him, almost mockingly of a mother scolding her children, as he flopped down on the bed next to the King. "You need your rest. And I. well, I need to think about stuff. And I can only think about stuff if you're asleep."  
  
Aragorn rolled over, and looked at the elf. "Why?" He asked curiously.  
  
"Well, what if I was thinking something derogatory about you, and I was accidentally thinking aloud, and you heard me?  
  
The two of them laughed together for a while. "Legolas," Aragorn whispered as he drifted off into the realm of sleep, "I've missed you."  
  
Legolas smiled at Aragorn, and nodded his agreement. "I missed you too." He told the sleeping figure.  
  
  
  
AN: Not fair! Not fair! I wanted to have the funeral here as well, but that's expected to take absolutely forever. This bit was only meant to be short!!  
  
Oh yeah, just because we now know whom killed Merry does not mean this is the end of the story. There is still more. We need to have Merry's funeral before this story will be over. And there is something else that needs to be revealed. 


	7. Merry, I will join you in your world

The next morning, it was actually Sam and Pippin who found the two together. Pippin already suspected what he'd find, but poor Sam was completely clueless. Even Pippin was slightly taken aback by what he saw. Both Aragorn and Legolas were asleep, even though elves do not need to sleep. Both were lying on their left shoulders, and uncomfortably close, for any but lovers. Aragorn's strong arms were wrapped around Legolas' waist, and his head was rested on the elf's shoulder. Pippin looked upon the couple and - no! He pushed the thought out of his mind. They were not a couple. Simply a pair. He looked upon the PAIR, and muttered under his breath, "I don't believe it. Prince Legolas cannot possibly have been telling the truth."  
  
Not, of course, that the Prince could have possibly lied. Royalty never lies. And that, of course, is not an oxymoron.  
  
Pippin cast a sideways glance at Sam, whom he knew had overheard the conversation he'd had the previous day with Legolas. Sam's eyes had practically popped out of his head. "Pippin." He began. "Do you think, perhaps, there may be something going on between. Prince Legolas, and King Aragorn?"  
  
The younger Hobbit was about to deny this, but then recalled the late night/early morning conversation. He hesitated, but finally nodded. "Yes, Sam, I believe there is."  
  
He stepped forward, and gently shook Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas, it is almost time for the funeral." These words stirred up yet another whirlpool of emotions inside the Hobbit, and tears almost immediately came to his eyes.  
  
Legolas awoke so quickly Pippin immediately doubted he had ever been asleep. While the elf set to the task of waking Aragorn (apparently harder than it looks under such circumstances), Pippin returned to the doorway. Sam laid a gentle hand on Pippin's shoulder. "I don't really know what to say." He told the younger one. "For the closest I have ever been to your situation is when I said goodbye to Mister Frodo. I know it is not the same, but." A mist of tears appeared in Sam's eyes, and Pippin gently nodded, taking Sam's hand in his. The two could look after each other, until they got over the loss of their loved ones.  
  
For the rest of eternity.  
  
By this time, Aragorn had awoken, but had hardly shifted position, due to his sleepiness. "Legolas." He murmured. "Do I really have to get up /now/?"  
  
"Being King has made you lazy." Legolas told him firmly, but obviously jestingly. His eyes flicked to the door, and noted Sam's presence. He was hoping to be 'woken' by a bit more of a gossip, so that more people would 'know', but he certainly didn't want Sam suspecting anything that was. well, actually true. He lowered his voice significantly, and whispered into Aragorn's ear, "Sam is here."  
  
Aragorn twitched slightly, then pulled his arms away from the elf. He swore under his breath, and sat up. "Sam. What. how long have you been there?"  
  
"A few minutes." Sam told the King, taking an automatic step backwards. "But. I didn't. see anything, if that's what you're asking. All I saw was you sleeping. next to Mister Legolas, sir, and that kind of got me thinking a bit. I mean, I'm not entirely sure, but it definitely seemed a little bit on the odd side. I mean. you know what I mean, don't you, your Majesty... I mean, Mister Aragorn, sir."  
  
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a nervous look. Pippin was amazed at the extension of their acting abilities so early in the morning, but still a tiny voice nagged in the back of his mind, that perhaps it was not just acting. He shook his head, and mentally stomped on the idea.  
  
"Should we tell him?"  
  
"Maybe we should just stop hiding it from him."  
  
"Isn't that the same thing?"  
  
"No - in one, we actively tell him. In the other, we just let him watch and figure it out for himself."  
  
"I like your idea."  
  
If Pippin was shocked before, there were no words to describe the feeling of downright bewilderment he felt as he watched Legolas lean across and plant a gentle kiss on Aragorn's lips. No, no. It's one thing to let people think something based on a suspicion. But that's just beyond allowing people to believe what they want. "Hurry up." The elf whispered, walking towards the door. "You have exactly three minutes to get ready for the funeral."  
  
*  
  
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Sarudoc. One of the most well liked Hobbits in the entire Shire. None could know him, and not like him. It is simply amazing that such a fate could have befallen someone like Meriadoc - or 'Merry', as he was more commonly known."  
  
Pippin stood, head bowed, between Sam and Legolas. He wanted to cry. It was appropriate for him to cry now, as Merry's closest and most trusted friend. But between the death and the funeral, he had simply run out of tears. Instead, he simply held tightly to Sam's arm and refused to look up as the casket was lowered into the grave.  
  
He felt Legolas' gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder, and almost smiled. But only almost, because not even the simple, and yet so comforting gesture could overcome his sadness. He had more in the world than just Merry. but he had figured that the discovery of Merry's murderer would have made him feel, in a way, better. But now that he had discovered the murderer but was sworn to secrecy regarding his identity, he only felt (if possible) worse than before.  
  
Sam could see this in his younger friend. He knew something was further troubling his mind, and the poor Hobbit needed no extra troubling. So after the funeral, he took Pippin home, sat him down firmly, looked him in the eye, and said, "What's wrong, Pippin? You look worse than before, if that's even possible."  
  
There was silence after that. Pippin refused to answer, but Sam refused to give up until he got an answer. "What's wrong with you? There's something, I know it. Is it Aragorn and Legolas? Tell me!"  
  
Pippin still remained silent, and Sam sat and awaited his answer. Finally, Pippin began to speak. "It's Aragorn."  
  
"Aragorn." Sam repeated. "Now we're getting somewhere. What's Aragorn? What did Aragorn do to you?" He was speaking a bit more harshly than necessary, and he felt Pippin withdraw from him in fear.  
  
He looked closely at Pippin for a moment, and could read the terror in his eyes. "Pippin.." Sam began again, this time a little more gently. "I don't mean to hurt you, I'm just trying to find out what's wrong. You're not going to feel better until you tell me. Now, what about Aragorn?"  
  
Pippin looked at Sam for a moment, and remembered what he had once been once told - a trouble shared is a trouble halved. Should he tell? No, he couldn't. He had sworn to never tell a soul, but then again. Sam wouldn't tell anyone else, right? But if Sam found out. perhaps he would react with a little more vengeance than Pippin did. The effect of these thoughts was dizzying. He opened his mouth to speak, but he choked on the words. He just couldn't say it. He looked for a moment into Sam's trustworthy eyes, and then he thought back to Aragorn. The image in his mind was not the kind- hearted King he had always seen before. It was as though it were a monster, snarling terribly at Pippin. and relentlessly stabbing his cousin Merry. Cold laughter filled Pippin's mind, sending a chill down his spine.  
  
He knew whom he'd rather stay faithful to. But he knew whom it would be more beneficial to his health to stay faithful to.  
  
He turned and ran from Sam. The older Hobbit immediately took chase, but Pippin was simply too fast.  
  
He didn't know where he was going. He just had to get away from Sam. Somehow. If Sam ever caught up to him, then he'd be forced to tell him what really happened. And he couldn't do that. Not if he wanted to live.  
  
He ran on and on, even after Sam gave up the chase. He let his legs carry him wherever they wished. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his very own Hobbit-hole. He had not been here alone since. since Aragorn.  
  
He could hardly even think those words. Almost mechanically, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the mantelpiece. He slowly approached it, noticing immediately a painting. It was a portrait of himself and Merry, and they were both smiling happily. He picked it up from the mantelpiece, and looked at it carefully. It was a fair likeness of Merry, not perfect, but the painter had captured a lot of Merry's. /Merryness/ in the picture.  
  
As he looked at the picture, a fresh batch of tears welled up inside him. "Merry." He whispered. "It's useless. Nothing I can do will ever bring you back to me. What's the point?"  
  
It was as though a voice was speaking in Pippin's head. He almost dropped the painting as he realised that his deceased cousin was speaking inside his head.  
  
You have to tell him. You're going to wipe your eyes, walk over to Sam, and tell him.  
  
But I can't.  
  
Sam's worried about you. You have to tell him.  
  
No. No I don't. Aragorn will.  
  
Are you afraid of him?  
  
Yes. I have good reason to be. Look what he did to you.  
  
Are you afraid he'll kill you?  
  
I'm afraid he'll hurt me. Since you. left me, I've only wanted to die.  
  
Pippin, I will tell you the truth. My death was no accident. He intended to kill me all along. I would fear him if I were you. But you can't let fear keep your mouth shut. You have to tell Sam.  
  
But.  
  
No buts, Pippin. You're doing it!  
  
I can't, Merry.  
  
You have to!  
  
I can't do it!  
  
You are going to do it, and that's final!!  
  
Pippin wiped his eyes, and carefully placed the painting back in its place on the mantelpiece. It was terrifying, knowing that he just spoke to a painting, but with each step, instead of getting more and more worried about what he had to tell Sam, he felt, almost better about it.  
  
"Merry," he whispered, as he left to go find Sam, "I want you to know that you were always there for me when I was in trouble. I simply ask that you do one more thing for me. I want you to help me do this. to help me tell Sam. and then I will join you in your world." 


	8. But doesn't Pippin have morals?

AN: Well, in this chapter, we'll meet up again with someone that we know from a previous chapter, but I'm not saying who, yet. Also, there hasn't been a flashback for a few chapters, so I might put in another one. If I can fit it in.  
  
  
  
He was going to do it. He was going to tell Sam all he knew, except perhaps that he had just exchanged words with Merry. He had to.  
  
He couldn't. He couldn't tell Sam a word of it. He was afraid to. Fear was holding him back. He had promised Aragorn and Legolas he'd never tell anyone.  
  
But he had to. What was more important, a promise to a murderer and his accomplice, or his deceased cousin Merry, and his good friend Sam? Clearly the latter. Yes, yes, he was going to tell Sam.  
  
But what happens when you betray a murderer's trust? Surely the outcome can't be good. And he had seen what Aragorn was capable of. No, no, he definitely can't tell anyone.  
  
But surely if put into that situation, Sam and Legolas would defend him. And he'd know it was coming, so he'd be able to defend himself. Yes, he will definitely tell Sam.  
  
But would Legolas defend him? After all, he promised both Aragorn and Legolas that he'd never tell anyone, and would all that has happened make Legolas a kind of accomplice, thus incriminating him as well? No, he can't tell a soul.  
  
Pippin silently argued with himself, but only ended up where he'd begun, wanting to tell Sam, but afraid to. He thought of Merry, his closest family member, and his best friend ever, despite the eight year age difference.  
  
Then he thought of Aragorn. None of the words he used were the same as those that he would have used a month before. Before, he had been a great King of Men, and kinder than most royalty. Now, he was nothing more than a cruel, heartless murderer.  
  
He thought of Sam. Good, kind, sensible Sam. Sam was one hundred percent loyalty; he had proven this for Frodo. But now that Frodo had gone, did he have any loyalty to spare for any other? Or had he, in a manner of speaking, run dry from all that time with Frodo?  
  
Then he thought of Legolas. Here came the most unanswered questions. He had never had any reason not to trust Legolas. But his seeming desperation to protect Aragorn was somewhat suspicious. Why would he be so desperate to keep Aragorn safe? After all, Legolas had never been particularly loyal to him before, so why now? But he could not have possibly been an accomplice, as he had heard Aragorn confess only recently.  
  
By the end of it, he was still stuck in the same position. Then, for a moment, he wondered why he was so afraid of Aragorn. Because he's a talented swordsmen, and can cause a lot of destruction with his sword. But Pippin didn't want to continue on, anyway. But he was afraid of his death being long and drawn-out, and he was afraid that Aragorn might attack him, and then not bother finishing the job. As a 'warning'.  
  
"What should I do?" He moaned aloud, doing a full spin, then overbalancing and landing ungracefully on his rear. He couldn't be bothered to even acknowledge the pain.  
  
He heard a voice behind him, a distinctly female voice that was familiar, though he couldn't place it. "Are you alright?" She asked, somewhat concerned, and with a distinctly flirtatious inflection. "That was a nasty fall."  
  
Pippin thought for a moment about the owner of the voice. Then, he winced. There was only one female in the Shire who would greet him in such a way. "I'm quite fine," he replied politely. "Thank you for asking, Tara."  
  
The Hobbit turned to face Tara. She was tall, as usual, but appeared even taller from the floor. She offered a slender hand, and helped him to his feet. "You look terrible," she told him critically. "Not that you don't look as cute as always. You just haven't had much sleep, have you? And you certainly haven't eaten much." She paused, then slowly released the hand she still held.  
  
In his state of confusion as to his next move on the subject of Merry, not to mention his exhaustion, Pippin hardly noticed the obvious moves Tara was making on him. In fact, it had still hardly clicked whom he was talking to. He had recognised the character, but he had apparently forgotten the... conversation they had at their last meeting.  
  
"There's something seriously wrong with you," came the rather blunt assessment. "Come on, Pip, tell me what's wrong."  
  
"You know what's wrong." He emotionlessly replied. "You were a part of what's wrong."  
  
Tara sighed, looking down at the Hobbit almost pityingly. "Oh, Pippin, you're not still dwelling on that, are you? There are so many things in the world that you could be occupying yourself with, and yet you choose to dwell on the past, and think nothing of the future."  
  
"Why should I care about the future?" He asked her with a rapidly cooling tone. "He was all that mattered to me, Tara. There is no future for little Pippin, young Pippin, foolish Pippin. Not without Merry."  
  
"There's always a future." Tara told him, beginning to become impatient with his insistence upon these thoughts. Not that she was worried about him. Tara never worried about anyone. She had, admittedly, been momentarily guilty about poor Merry, but she got over it, and was back to Pippin. There was only one thing she wanted from him, and it was exactly the same thing that she wanted from every other being of the male persuasion. Of course, she couldn't get this if he chose to dwell on the loss of his best friend. "There's always a future if you choose to see it. Now, think of all the things you could be doing." The teasing smile that all knew so well drifted across her lips. "I know how you feel about me, and I /do/ respect the fact that you think you're so much better than me. But can I at least offer you a drink?"  
  
Pippin was either so mixed up by the confusing feelings swirling through his mind that he allowed himself to be swayed by her offer, or was just too exhausted to try to resist. Either way, he nodded, and spoke only a short, simple, but possibly deadly sentence. (Okay, so perhaps that was a little overdramatic. It was deadly, but only to his dignity.) "Well, alright then, Tara."  
  
Well, the one drink offered led to two drinks. The two drinks led to three. The three drinks led to four. There is a good thing about drinking, he thought to himself. All those problems... gone, at least for the moment. But anyway, soon enough, Pippin was so drunk he couldn't tell left from right. Much less remember his principles, especially those regarding a certain promiscuous femme such as Tara.  
  
You all know what happened here, so I won't go into a detailed description of it. This is a PG-rated fic!  
  
At least, I hope you've managed to figure out what happened here.  
  
Well, there is a character that has to walk in on every bad scene possible. And so far, that character has been Pippin. But as he was involved in above mentioned 'bad scene', the unfortunate character must be Sam.  
  
Surprise wasn't quite the word to describe Sam's reaction to walking in on such a scene. Of course, for the rating's sake, he didn't walk in until the 'morning after' scene. Anyway, the scene he saw was enough. Surprise is about the understatement of the century. He was more shocked than when he discovered Aragorn and Legolas in a rather similar position, not that that says much. Then again, Aragorn and Legolas /were/ both fully clothed.  
  
Fact is, he knew Pippin had morals, and his morals would normally have prevented this situation from occurring.  
  
He wasn't entirely sure whether he should awaken Pippin and point the situation out to him, or just wait until he woke up and discovered it himself. The latter would probably be a lot less painful on Sam's part, anyway.  
  
He snuck backwards out the door. He'd rather not witness what would happen when Pippin awoke. 


	9. And cold steel pierces the flesh

AN: Well, we're actually getting somewhere with the plot. Thank you so much, my ultimate reviewer QTpie-pippinsgurl!! Thank you so much for your encouragement in your reviews! I also thank Wilwarin, Beatrice and Emma Malfoy, because even though you didn't review as much as QTpie-pippinsgurl, you still reviewed!  
  
QTpie-pippinsgurl - More Pippin and cliffhanger-y goodness. Numnums.  
  
Wilwarin - I know what you mean.  
  
Beatrice - I would respond to your review properly, but I may give away some of the plot in the process. I don't want to spoil the fic for you but... *looks around and whispers* Aragorn and Legolas start to ge............... CAN'T TELL YOU! Oh look, an ant... sorry about that. Anyway... yeah. Sugar attacking brain...  
  
Emma Malfoy - Thank you! See above. Can't give away plot.  
  
Also, to all of you, I'd like to note that this is not a slashy-fic. Exactly. I mean, it's filled to the brim with pretend slash, but no real slash. See? Lookies at Aragorn and Legolas. Pretendness. I think. I mean, Legolas did look like he was getting pretty into the act, right? But... here I go, giving away the plot again. Point is, it's pretend. They aren't /really/ together - they're just protecting Aragorn. Anyway, onto the story!  
  
  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn hissed, as he glanced from left, to right, to left, walking along the dimly lit dirt path, his hand placed firmly on the hilt of his sword. "Legolas, where are you?" It was very early in the morning, and all was dark. The sun had not yet awoken.  
  
He could not hear a sound, but he felt the presence of the elf-prince behind him. He spun around quickly, beginning to draw the sword from its sheath, just in time to see Legolas recovering himself after a graceful leap from a nearby tree. He slowly released his grip upon mighty Anduril, and allowed it to slide back into place. He turned to continue walking, and beckoned for his comrade to follow him.  
  
"A little stressed, aren't we, Aragorn?" The elf asked, quickly catching up and falling into step with the man. "What happened? Pippin didn't -"  
  
The King shook his head slightly. "No, Pippin didn't tell Sam." He halted, completely unexpectedly, and looked around to see if there was any unfavourable company anywhere about. Legolas too immediately stopped. "I heard his voice."  
  
Legolas cocked his head to one side curiously, rather accidentally creating the appearance of a young puppy. "Whose voice?" Silence filled the air. It was as though time had halted; not even the sounds of nocturnal insects buzzing and the like filled the air. "Aragorn?" The elf ventured. "What voice?"  
  
Aragorn's response came, arduously. "It was Merry's voice, Legolas. I heard Merry speaking to me. He told me that Pippin would tell the world, and I would be found out. I'd lose the throne, be exiled from Gondor... if I was lucky. I'd be more likely to be executed. And if I turned myself in, I may at least be worthy of the... honourable execution." He gestured with one hand, drawing it slowly across his throat, miming the honourable execution - having ones head removed by ones own sword.  
  
There was again silence. A heavy silence. Legolas could not think of what to do. "Aragorn," he finally queried gently, "are you sure it was an accident?"  
  
The dim light seemed to grow darker. Aragorn turned to the elf, and, seemingly growing several feet in height, sneered intimidatingly in his face, slowly drawing the mighty sword Anduril. "No, Legolas. It was not an accident. Merry deserved all he got, and worse." Legolas shrunk back, as the sword came dangerously close to his perfectly sculpted face. "He deserved every drop of blood he lost, every single stab wound, every scrap of pain and suffering he went through. It was all justified, Legolas. He deserved it all." The sword fell several inches, in line with the elf's heart. The wielder of the deadly weapon seemed to calm down a little, as the angry tones softened into a somewhat mocking voice. "It's so good to finally get that off my chest. Thank you so much for listening." The point of the sword tore through the elven linen, cold steel pressing against Legolas' chest. "Of course, now that I've told you that, I have to kill you. You do understand, don't you, my love?" Harshness fell back into his tone as his sword pressed dangerously into the elf's flesh. The last two words were spoken with incredible amounts of sarcasm. It was perhaps somewhat unfortunate that they did not have the same effect as they would on, say, Arwen. After all, Legolas was not truly his love, and they both knew it. He was just trying to protect him.  
  
Well, he didn't need the elf's feeble protection any longer. The only danger lay in that Pippin might spill the beans. But after the pathetic Hobbit saw what he was about to do to Legolas... well, he wouldn't dare breath a word about the perpetrator.  
  
"Any last words?" He asked, again mocking the kindness he had once shown.  
  
The words he wanted to say were caught in Legolas' throat. He didn't dare speak, not in such a terrifying situation. He could feel the sword pressing against his flesh, and dared not aggravate he who wielded such a weapon. Finally, he spoke. "All I have to say, Aragorn, is that if you do kill me... well, think of what you'll be losing."  
  
In the very dim light, Legolas could see Aragorn merely sneer in response, putting a tiny bit more force on the sword, allowing the blade to cut, just a tiny amount, into his flesh. Playing a ghastly game with the poor victim. "What will I be losing? You'll run and tell if I let you go. No, it's a lot safer to just dispose of you. You do understand where I'm coming from, don't you, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas' first impulse was to cry out as he felt the tip of the sword break through his skin. He wanted to cry out, to run, to confess all he knew. But he was deprived of these privileges. He forgot about his attempts to talk Aragorn out of it, the carefully planned lines lost amongst his fear. It was one thing to risk your life on the battlefield. It was another thing entirely to have a dear friend threaten your life. His head swimming from all the combined thoughts and fear, the poor elf-prince had nothing else to do but the first, ineffectual attempt to save his own life that popped into his head. Forcing himself to forget about the blade piercing his flesh, reminding himself that this distraction could save his life, he reached out, and pulled Aragorn closer to him. It took every scrap of his being to perform the feeble attempt at saving his life (and a lot of fancy work not to drive the sword deeper into himself), but he nonetheless went through with it.  
  
The plan was, that by kissing Aragorn, he could distract him for long enough to force the sword out of his hands, and run for it.  
  
Unfortunately, that wasn't quite what happened. He did kiss Aragorn, and it certainly caught the King off his guard. The problem arose when it was a little harder than Legolas expected to force the weapon out of his hands and run for it.  
  
(AN: WARNING: This is a really slashy section. I would like to remind you however that this is an attempt to save his life, not the release of held- back lust or whatever you may be thinking.)  
  
Their lips pressed together, quite unexpectedly, and it was only automatic reaction to act upon it. Legolas, for the obvious reasons, kept pushing for slightly more, hoping to distract Aragorn enough to force Anduril from his hands. It really didn't work, as although Aragorn was rather distracted by it, he held the sword firmly, and refused to slacken his grip even slightly.  
  
Legolas was unsure of what to do. He had Aragorn in a position where he was distracted, at least for the next few seconds, until he realised exactly what was going on, but he was still tightly holding the sword. With only a micro-second of thought (and the knowledge that this act was smashing his dignity into a thousand pieces), he went for it.  
  
The elf deftly slid his tongue into the man's mouth, taking him by complete surprise. It was a strange sensation, one that he very rarely experienced, and Aragorn had not quite realised exactly what was going on. He responded with full passion, and began to loosen his grip on the sword that was already piercing the elf.  
  
This was what Legolas was waiting for. He grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword, and tried to pull it from the hands of its owner.  
  
Unfortunately, all that happened was Aragorn woke up to himself, pulled away from Legolas in pure disgust and drove the sword, with full force, forward.  
  
The elf-prince had not the strength to fight off the forceful blow, and fell backwards as Aragorn released the sword impaling the poor elf.  
  
"That will teach you, won't it, Legolas?" Aragorn asked coldly, as he roughly removed his weapon from the elf, and stabbed him a second time, in the stomach. He continued stabbing the elf until the every last scrap of life was gone.  
  
With that, he whirled away, to clean his sword, and get over the second terrible crime he had just committed. 


	10. Tell, and you're next

When Pippin finally awoke, nothing really clicked in his mind except for the feeling that if he moved too quickly, his head would explode. Soon enough, despite the throbbing headache he had, courtesy of his hangover, he realised three things that were possibly quite important. 1. He was in a strange bed, in a strange room he didn't recognise. 2. He was lying next to Tara. 3. They were both naked.  
  
It was when he realised thing number three that he properly woke up, despite the pain surging through his head, and the strange feeling that not all was good in the world. He realised quickly what had happened, and felt sicker than he already did. Didn't he have morals? Wasn't he supposed to be the only person who DIDN'T do this with Tara? He glanced around the room, looking for his trousers. They were folded up neatly, along with his shirt and vest, on a nearby chair. Well, at least he hadn't been so out of it that he had just thrown his clothes somewhere and let them remain wherever they happened to land. Of course, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. If he hadn't been completely out of it, why had he done this with Tara? Everything was so confusing, and his head was splitting. He wanted to die more than ever. He felt the maiden stir beside him. His first impulse was to get out of the bed, get dressed, and run before she awoke. No such luck. She rolled over and opened her eyes, fixing her gaze upon Pippin - and immediately slipping into her normal mode. "Hey, honey..." she purred. "Have fun last night?" He shook his head quickly, and immediately regretted it. Both hands instantly flew to his head, and he tried to murmur something to the extent of, "Oh sweet mother..." But all that came out was something like, "Dsafbgjadnfbluurek," and a new case of bad breath.  
  
She got to her feet, and smiled, rather charmingly, at Pippin. He tried not to look as she turned to search for her clothes, revealing herself in all her glory. Despite his attempts, it was rather hard to ignore her naked body right in front of him. "I suppose I should take that as a no. I rarely get 'no's when I ask people that. Normally they start drooling and beg for more. You are a hard one to please, aren't you?" She chatted amiably, without any shame regarding her lack of attire, and certainly lacking any tiredness. Clearly, she was not hung over.  
  
As for Pippin, well, he properly covered himself with the blankets and waited for Tara to leave. Finally, he found himself able to speak. "I suppose you just don't know what I like." He replied, attempting to speak defensively, but only succeeding in sounding rather... half-dead, and still holding his head in his hands. "Why does this have to happen to me?" He muttered to himself.  
  
He closed his eyes, but was unable to fall back into his uneasy sleep, due to his splitting headache. When he finally resigned himself to this and opened his eyes, Tara was gone.  
  
*  
  
"Oh, Pippin..." was all that Sam could think to whisper, as he held a hand tightly on Pippin's shoulder and tried to keep his eyes off the sight in front of them. Pippin was again in tears, and much of the local population had turned out to take a look at what had happened. To look at the dead body, the mutilated dead body, of Prince Legolas Greenleaf. Blood poured from the wounds, and disgusting entrails and the like were visible from at least three stab wounds in the stomach. There were whispers of a mass murderer in the area, and a ripple of fear passed through the crowds.  
  
Had Pippin been in a better frame of mind, he might have given thought to the incredibly suspicious (and incriminating, for Aragorn) circumstances of the elf's death. After all, he knew of what Aragorn was capable of. But with his initial shock at the discovery, coupled with the feeling that a whole army of archers had just used his head for target practice erased his mind of anything of the sort. Sam not yet knew of what Aragorn had done.  
  
None of the other Hobbits (and certainly not Gimli) even suspected Aragorn in the slightest. All suspicions of Aragorn's part in the deaths were immediately erased when they saw his reaction to the death, especially coupled with the rumours about them. Knelt by the dead elf's side, clutching the cold hand close to his chest, and trying to hold back tears, was King Aragorn of Gondor. Instead of appearing regal and kingly, he looked smaller, meeker, and more innocent. "Oh Legolas," he held back a sob as he gazed at the blood-covered body. "Mela en' coiamin, Legolas..."  
  
Pippin glanced at Sam, his head still foggy from the splitting headache. "Mela-what, Sam?"  
  
"Mela en' coiamin." Sam repeated the King softly, unable to take his eyes off the tragic scene. "It means something like 'love of my life' - but I'm not entirely sure."  
  
"Love of my life?" The younger Hobbit repeated. "But... they weren't /really/ together, were they?"  
  
At this, Sam spun slowly to look at Pippin, drawing his eyes away from the disgusting sight. "Not really together? Pip, we saw them. They were asleep. Together. And they never leave each other's side. They're constantly defending each other, and the other day, Legolas came pretty close to beating a young Hobbit around the head for insulting Aragorn." Despite himself, Pippin laughed softly, the first time he had laughed in days. Sam paused for a moment, thinking over what he'd just said. "I just described my relationship with Frodo, didn't I?" The younger Hobbit nodded. "Well, okay, it's not proof, but this is. Why else would Aragorn call Legolas 'love of his life'? And if that's not enough evidence for you, we saw them /kiss/. Now, I admit, a lot of the stuff they do is a lot like Frodo and myself. But even the very best of friends don't kiss."  
  
It was the perfect time to tell Sam what had happened. Absolutely perfect. Pippin opened his mouth to explain it to Sam - but then he noticed Aragorn out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face him slowly, and saw a certain look in his eyes that contradicted the rest of appearance. Whilst still weeping over Legolas' untimely death (well, any death is untimely, if you're an elf), and clutching the poor elf's hand to his chest, he looked up, and Pippin saw the murderous glint in his eyes. The great King of Men mouthed four simple words to Pippin, which caused the younger Hobbit to turn and flee from his friend Sam. 'Tell, and you're next.'  
  
Sam watched the retreating figure of his friend. He did not take chase, for he had a feeling he already knew what Pippin was fleeing from - and chasing after him and forcing him to confirm his suspicions was not the best way to find out for sure. 


	11. Now Sam knows, what's next?

AN: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A PIPPIN NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!  
  
Okay, I'm over that now. Lookies, there's actually an entire line of Elvish in chapter 10. Be proud of me. Alright, then, well, that chapter seemed a bit take-up-spacey, but something VERY IMPORTANT happened. Yep - Sam now thinks he knows.  
  
  
  
It was several hours before the crowds finally dissolved. Through those hours, Sam kept a close watch on Aragorn, just waiting for him to get tired of his playacting by Legolas' side, and leave. To Sam's surprise, it didn't happen. Perhaps he was wrong, he thought to himself. Perhaps it was all as innocent as a tragic love affair that ended in death. It happened often enough in literature. Why not in real life? After all, Aragorn certainly looked the part of the innocent lover, distraught by his partner's untimely death. For hours on end, as crowds watched, he knelt by the blood-soaked elf-corpse's side, holding the hand close to his chest, and murmuring romantic-sounding phrases in Elvish to the body - everything from "Amin mela lle", to "Melamin - wanwa", to "lle il quell salka."  
  
(Everything from "I love you," to "My love - gone", to "You are a bad dancer.")  
  
Well, no one could really understand them. They were too soft for most to hear anyway, and about ninety-nine one hundredths of the Hobbits couldn't speak Elvish anyway - and most of the Hobbits that did know Elvish knew perhaps two lines of it.  
  
Yet, somehow the scene was lacking something. Perhaps it was not obvious to anyone not looking for it, but after watching amongst the crowds for some time after Pippin departed, the watchful Sam began to notice the little things. The look in Aragorn's eyes was not entirely sincere as he murmured 'romantic' lines in Elvish. The way he clutched the elf's hand was just a little harsher than the usual holding of a lover's hand. And the way Pippin had looked at him, and then run... the more he watched, the more he realised that almost nothing here added up to what he had thought before.  
  
As the crowds finally dwindled down to just Aragorn and Sam, the Hobbit decided to just try one last test to make sure he was right. He approached the kneeling man, eyes lowered respectfully. "I am sorry about what happened to Prince Legolas."  
  
He wasn't quite sure what he expected. Maybe Aragorn would quit the act immediately and slink away. Maybe he would pretend not to hear him. Maybe he would dab at his eyes, murmur a goodbye, and slowly leave so he wouldn't have to continue acting. Whatever it was Sam expected to happen, it certainly didn't include looking up at him, sincere blue eyes still filled with tears. There was more sincerity in them than he had seen before, and a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Then he thought back to Samia's reaction to Merry's death, and compared the two. It was close, but not quite the same. Aragorn was missing something, but he wasn't sure what it was.  
  
"Samwise," the King's voice spoke softly, wavering slightly, and reflecting all the sincerity, and more, that was visible in his eyes. This one word alone was almost enough to convince Sam of Aragorn's innocence, but a feeling in his gut told him to still remain suspicious. "Samwise, have you ever experienced the feeling of losing the one thing that made your life worth living, like the love of your life?"  
  
Sam paused, before saying anything, thinking over his response carefully. If Aragorn was truly less than innocent, there was a chance to catch him out on it. "Legolas was your true love, wasn't he, Aragorn?"  
  
The King looked down at the ground as he replied, and fumbled around in his pockets for a handkerchief. It could mean he's embarrassed, either of his love, or his tears, or it could mean he's lying and has a guilty conscience, Sam decided. "Legolas was the world, and more to me." Aragorn replied, as he slowly raised his gaze again to meet Sam's eye. His gaze was unwavering, and Sam was almost convinced of his innocence - about ninety- nine percent so. But there was still a shimmer of doubt, nagging at him, telling him that Aragorn was a phony and a murderer. He had long since learned to trust his gut instinct, but the seeming evidence that Aragorn was innocent so overpowered his gut feeling. Nonetheless, he stuck to it.  
  
"When was the last time you saw him?" Sam asked gently, not wanting to sound too nosy, or give Aragorn any hints as to what he suspected.  
  
"Last night," Aragorn replied, still wiping the occasional tear from his eye. It was a good thing he was such a good actor. It was fairly easy for him to act so much in love with Legolas, and so distraught by his death. He silently thanked the gods for Sam's question, as it was easy to reply to without relying on lies. He may be a good actor, but he couldn't count on his eyes to one hundred per cent reflect sincerity when he was lying through his teeth. "The last thing he did before he left was... well, Sam, when Frodo left, did he try to leave things on a nice note?"  
  
Sam thought for a moment, before uncertainly nodding. Was Aragorn just trying to change the subject?  
  
The King took a deep, shaky breath. "I believe that is how Legolas wanted to leave things. He is, after all, an elf. I suspect he sensed that something terrible was about to happen and end things on a pleasant note... either that, or he simply wished to prove to me that he truly loved me..." He paused, watching Sam for a moment, then continuing. "He kissed me with more passion than he ever did before." Aragorn kept carefully to the truth, even if he was only telling half of the truth most of the time. After all, before Legolas died, he /did/ kiss Aragorn with more passion than ever before. Of course, it was an attempt to save his life, but Sam didn't have to know that. While Aragorn was speaking of this, Sam looked rather disgusted, but kept watching him carefully, and listening. It was making Aragorn rather uneasy, having Sam constantly watch him, and it was rather off-putting. Both were trying with care to do their task right - Sam, to catch Aragorn out, and Aragorn, to make Sam believe he was innocent, and make the Hobbit go home. "Sam," he continued, still carefully choosing his words so as not to lie about his and Legolas' last encounter. "I won't go into detail about what else happened, so as not to... frighten you, but you get the general idea. I suppose you remember the pleasure of exploring the area under your partner's clothes for the first time..." He was sticking carefully to the truth. The truth about the gruesome murder would frighten Sam if he went into detail about it. And he certainly had 'explored the area under Legolas' clothes'. With the blade of his sword.  
  
Aragorn's story was quite enough for Sam. Convinced, at least in his head, of the man's innocence, Sam simply nodded dumbly, and turned to leave. Before he had a chance to flee, however, Aragorn took a hold of Sam's arm, twisted it, causing the Hobbit to cry out, and harshly whispered in his ear, "I know what you suspect - and I leave you with exactly the same message as Pippin. Tell /anyone/ of your suspicions, and you'll be next. I am merely the elf's distraught ex-lover. I have done nothing since I got here - unless you count to sort of night-time fun one normally shares with a lover." Sam was disgusted by Aragorn's casual talk of such things. Respectable Hobbits like Sam never discussed these things in public. A lot of respectable Hobbits like Sam gave the impression that they were unaware of these things even happened.  
  
Aragorn pushed Sam roughly forwards onto the ground, unsheathing his sword and tossed it at the Hobbit sprawled out on the ground. The blade stuck into the ground, merely inches away from the, now shivering with fear, Hobbit's left ear. "That was a warning." He hissed. "Tell a soul, and you'll end up just like Legolas." 


	12. Returned from the halls of Mandos

AN: I know that some stuff that happens in this fic seem seriously screwed up. And I know Aragorn has not yet given a logical reason for Merry's murder. But he has one. It's just kind of all building up to it. But soon!  
  
Oh, and as for Aragorn telling Sam after playacting for so long, sorry if I didn't make it clear, but Aragorn was starting to doubt his ability to continue for much longer. And so gave up, unaware of the fact that Sam was entirely convinced. Sorry for the unclearness there. Anyway... on with the fic!  
  
  
  
You won't get away with this.  
  
You will get caught.  
  
Pippin will tell, and you'll meet the Death Penalty before you can do a thing about it.  
  
"Pippin's too frightened to tell." Aragorn replied defiantly, but a little uneasily. He wasn't used to talking to strange, whispery voices in his head, and he had to admit, there was truth in the words that were spoken to him.  
  
Why should he be? If he tells, what could you possibly do about it? You'll be dead, Aragorn, son of Arathorn.  
  
"He doesn't see that."  
  
Oh doesn't he? He has already spoken to Merry.  
  
"Merry?"  
  
Yes, Merry. Merry told him what he must do. And he would have, if you had not killed me, and reminded him what would happen.  
  
The dead elf's voice was driving him crazy, especially because he knew that what Legolas told him was the truth. "Well, then, you did not die needlessly." He spoke bravely, despite his fear. He was not afraid of what the elf may do to him, but afraid of the truth in the words of the dead elf.  
  
There is no such thing as a not needless murder, Aragorn.  
  
"Silence. You're dead. You cannot talk to me." It was a flimsy defence. He knew that sometimes, the world had strange powers over things. And just because he had never heard a dead soul speak to him before didn't mean it wasn't possible.  
  
Oh, can't I? You're just afraid.  
  
"I am King Aragorn of Gondor! I fear no non-existent voices!"  
  
So why don' t you just accept the fact that I'm talking to you, oh great and powerful ruler?  
  
"Do not mock me!"  
  
Why ever not? Don't tell me you fear being mocked, then?  
  
"I fear nothing!"  
  
Oh? So why can I hear the fear in your voice?  
  
This was getting eerier by the moment. No matter how worked up he got, the voice he heard remained calm, and never above a whisper. Occasionally amused, but otherwise, there was little change in the voice Legolas spoke to him with. Aragorn was sure he felt the tickle of breath that normally comes with someone whispering in your ear. His heart pounded, faster, faster. He felt a gentle hand lay upon his arm. He was talented at identifying people, and he knew that there was only one whose gentle touch felt quite this way. But it couldn't be. He was dead, Aragorn saw that that himself. He looked down at his arm, then double-checked, to see what was there. There was nothing, but he could definitely feel it. First on his arm, then slowly running up his arm. "Legolas," he whispered hoarsely. "Are you there?"  
  
What's the matter? Afraid?  
  
The voice was mocking, teasing, and too close for comfort. It sounded, and felt like Legolas was standing by his side, whispering in his ear. Not to mention the feeling like a hand was on his arm, running along his arm, rising to his face, gently caressing the rough, stubbled cheek... and yet, when he waved his arm through the air around him, it only proved there was clearly no one there. It must surely be a trick of the imagination... but he knew what he felt, and it was no mind game. "No." He again replied defiantly, but was beginning to find his own boldness tiring. He knew that this voice, this ghost, whatever it was, knew that he was frightened.  
  
You're lying again, Aragorn. This can't be good for you.  
  
"Legolas?" He repeated, with the same hoarseness in his tone.  
  
I'm here, Aragorn.  
  
"Where?" He could still feel the gentle tickling on his ear, like someone was whispering into it. But there was quite simply no one there. His heart pounded. He had encountered many things, ranging from startling to absolutely terrifying. But nothing was quite the same as having a voice belonging to a dead elf whispering in your ear, a hand that doesn't exist caressing your cheek. It wasn't that nothing had the same fear level - there were things scarier. But there is such a difference between this, and the things he had previously done, not in fear factor, but in situation.  
  
Here.  
  
"How can that be possible? You're dead."  
  
Am I, then?  
  
"You are. I killed you myself."  
  
Does that really mean anything? Just because you killed me doesn't mean I'm gone.  
  
"Yes it does!" He insisted. "It does mean that! You can't still live now that I've killed you!"  
  
Aragorn, you can hear me, feel me, but not see me, yes?  
  
"Yes." He could hear the voice with perfect crystal clarity; feel the gentle breath on his ears. He felt the hand, now finished caressing his cheek, now gently lying on his arm again.  
  
Look carefully. Try and see me.  
  
In the darkness, Aragorn strained his eyes to try and see. He knew it was useless, it was too dark to see a thing, and there was surely nothing to see. But nonetheless, he peered through the darkness, all around him, and tried to find the 'ghost'. "You aren't here." He scoffed, though still with significant unease. "You're just not here."  
  
"Oh I'm not?" Slowly, right before his eyes, a figure began to materialize, seemingly from nowhere. A hand was resting on his arm, but slowly run up to his chest, accompanied by the other hand. Long blonde hair hung around the fair elvish face, which was now directly in front of him, as opposed to leaning across to whisper in his ear.  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, watching the elf materialize. At first, the figure was barely visible, but began to become clearer, and clearer, until finally he was totally opaque. "But... how is it possible? You're..."  
  
Smiling serenely, the elf nodded. He seemed quite calm, and not at all irritated with Aragorn for murdering him. "It is I." He replied, leaning closer to the man in a way that, dare he even think of it, reminded him of that other elf, Tara. Aragorn was, to put it simply, seriously freaked out. An elf that he had killed the previous night had returned, and hardly seemed even annoyed at his death. "Yes, I know, I'm dead. But I have returned from the Halls of Mandos for a purpose."  
  
"A purpose?" Aragorn repeated uneasily. "What purpose would that be?"  
  
Again, there was that so serene smile. "Aragorn, why else would I be here?" He asked lightly, pushing the man backwards. He certainly hadn't expected it to work, but it apparently caught him off-guard. He knelt upon the man's chest, feeling the racing heartbeat beneath his shirt. "You know what it is you've done."  
  
"I know..." He whispered in response, looking into the elf's eyes with distinct fright. "I know what I've done. But how is it you've returned?"  
  
"That's unimportant, Aragorn... what matters is that you know /why/ I'm here. I'm here to tell you that you're not going to get away with it. Pippin won't tell, that's true, and neither will Sam. But I will."  
  
"You're dead, no one will listen to you."  
  
"Oh, won't they?" Legolas asked the man beneath him, still with the same mild tone. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we? Namarie, melamin." (Goodbye, my love) The last few words he spoke were with harsh sarcasm, the first sign of any form of emotion apart from just plain calmness. He brushed down his fine, unmarked attire, and planted a rough kiss in the vague vicinity of Aragorn's mouth. The man squirmed beneath the elf, as Legolas stood and allowed the man to get to his feet.  
  
Aragorn brushed down his own clothes, and childishly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dinen, edhel." (Silent, elf) He ordered.  
  
"My apologies." Legolas responds in the Common Tongue, smiling amusedly, then slowly disappearing.  
  
Nothing will come of it. That never happened. It wasn't real, only the imagination.  
  
But as Aragorn rubbed his sore chest where Legolas had knelt, he reminded himself that from his experience, imagination didn't cause that much pain. 


End file.
